


crowns and misfortune

by JacquesSays



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Gen, M/M, Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23681344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JacquesSays/pseuds/JacquesSays
Summary: once upon a time, in a kingdom so so small lived a charismatic bard, a dashingly clumsy squire, and a troublemaking bastard's daughter. Richie, Bill and Beverly all met at the local orphanage at very young ages and had grown exceptionally close. until one day when the royal guards marched into the Denbrough Orphanage's doors and demanded the presence of Richie, the friends all learn that the most irresponsible among them happens to be the missing 'princess.'without much a choice, the three spiral themselves into nobility (because Richie would never abandon his friends), causing teacups to fly everwhere, loosing horses and spicy hook-ups, and forced to survive it all together.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. the party

**Author's Note:**

> If you might remember, which i doubt, I have written an unfinished fanfic similar to this. I WAS FUCKING DEVASTATED ABOUT BY THE HANDS OF THE ANTS BC ITS TOO SERIOUS.
> 
> I just dreamt some parts of this so i decided to write it down bc its annoying me this quarantine.

**_01\. the party_ **

**THE VILLAGER'S BALL** was the biggest party where both noble and the local folks would gather, a celebration of the civil war between the rich and the poor that happened decades ago in the Kingdom of Derry. It occurs every ten years in the middle of spring.

  
During the ball, there was a chance that a noble would find a villager so interesting that they'd sweep them off their feet to change their lives forever, whether it be good or bad. The village girls said it was supposed to be a magical experience.

Frankly, Richie never cared about getting hitched or fucking with someone who cleans their entire hands off with water and soap. He was just here because of some writer's block. He needed to write a new song or else his reputation will cease.

Almost everyone knew who Richard the Trashtalking Bard was. He'd come to pass by the villages with a sweet tune on his lute, an enchanting melody that seemed to drag the villagers until they notice the lyrics he replaced for the traditional songs honored for well-respected knights and heroes. Half of those who knew despised his presence, old men usually let their dogs out to chase him out of their village. The rest adored his singing but would often mistake him as a beggar, giving him scraps of their bread and a carrot, only rarely do they give him coins.

He wasn't going to risk his sort-of fame because of some laziness his brain managed to achieve. Plus, Beverly wanted to go because she wanted to show off her dancing skills.

The redhead managed to find some attires fit for the ball for her, Richie and Bill. Her own ball gown was sewn by herself with the help of Bill's mother. The three had left the orphanage with quick steps, excited to see the inside of the castle for the first time.

Richie was impressed, he had to admit. The pillars are so tall that it barely had any decorations strung around them. The giant doors were open and the only thing Richie can see were frills and ribbons and suits and fancy lights.

"These floorings are s-s-so shiny!" Bill awes down at his feet at marbled floors. His reflection was a tad bit blurry but was still showing him his plain black suit. "H-handsome, right?" He says to his friends who laugh but agreed anyways.

Then someone shoves Bill to the side and sneers at him. Beverly hurries over to him and Richie gives him the 1800s equivalent of a middle finger. "You okay, Bill?" Richie asks at the same time Beverly demanded who that was.

"T-that's Henry Bowers, ana-another squire," He informs them with a soft grunt.

Bill Denbrough was the definition of a lionheart. Brave, passionate and self-sacrificing. He'd do anything for his family, who had barely any wealth and had to raise several orphans including Richie and Bev. He recently started squiring under some knight Richie barely knew the name of. The occupation of a knight actually fits his friend if he weren't such a klutz, Bill told them before that he nearly stabbed himself when fetching for his knight's dull sword to be sharpened.

"He's Sir Oscar's kid," Bill continues causing Richie to nod in realization.

"Aah," He looks at Henry's back with high brows and a small pout, "The resemblance is uncanny."

Bev grabs them both by their arms suddenly. "Oh come on you two, if you wanna talk like fairies then come dance like one!" She exclaims and pulled them both on to the dance floor. The group of musicians in the corner started to play an upbeat melody, lead by the violin. The trio shuffled their feet and passed each other around. Laughters echoes and rhythmic clapping mixed in with the music and sooner than what Richie thought he was twirled out of the crowd.

Great, he can start on what he was  
supposed to be doing this whole time. He just hopes Beverly and Bill don't notice his absence.

He trudged past more pillars and even more people. He couldn't see paintings on the walls except for landscapes of the kingdom and the kingdom's pride, the streams and rivers. He sat at the corner, alone. Pulling out a small piece of parchment paper and a pen he started to write some lyrics. When Richie would write songs about the great heroes he'd usually just rip off of the other bards who praised and celebrated their glory and turned them into a version of hilarity and insults, some loved him for it.

He groaned out loud as nothing came into his brain except for the joyous laughter, the upbeat traditional song roaring up the audience and some drunken shouts from Beverly, he did not know where she got her alcohol. He needed somewhere else to go, somewhere quiet.

Then somebody bumped into a waiter and Richie looked up once he heard the tray of tiny pink pastries falling on to the marble floors. The person who caused the small commotion was covered in a potato sack cloak. Richie chuckled at the idea but realized that the cloaked figure hid in a room that was definitely not for public use.

 _You're not going there._ He hears Bill's mom's words from earlier. _Don't go anywhere outside the ballroom._

But Richie had nothing better to do. Sure, he could join in the dancing but the music was so overused that he couldn't afford to waste his sweat on that. You can also blame it on his curiosity. Bill's mother isn't _his,_ she can't help it if he wanted to do things himself.

So he followed the potato sack into the empty room. The room was massive and long that he soon lost sight of who he was after. Richie looks around the walls and portraits of past kings, queens and royal families were everywhere. He looks at one ridiculous frame, it was of the current king, King Wentworth. He was pulling off a face, his mouth wide open, eyebrows extremely high and his grey eyes were looking up. Richie burst out laughing as he attempted to copy the emotion. Who knew how much stress the king was under while this was being painted in six hours?

"Holy shit, you look like the king," A voice whispered behind him and Richie whipped his head around to see the potato sack owning a face. It was cute but it did not save him from a fall on his rear.

"Are you okay?" Potato sack continued lending him a hand. Richie took it and he felt some muscles on the arm. Wow, for a tiny guy, he sure had something up his sleeves.

"What are you doing here?" Richie asks him in a defensive mode and the potato sack panicked.

"Wait are you the prince? Please don't tell me on my mother, she would never forgive me—,"

To this Richie scrunched his nose in confusion. "What? No, I'm from the orphanage," He answered him, shaking his head.

"Oh," Potato sack replied, a blush on his face. "Sorry."

"It's okay?"

"I think we should leave," Potato sack decided, dusting something off of his still dirty cloak. Richie nods his head and follows him.

"Hey, what's your name?" Curious as ever, Richie looks at him.

"Edw—," Potato sack stops himself, "It's Eddie."

"Cute name," Richie laughs, "I'm Richie."

Eddie shoves him a bit at the teasing before laughing himself. "So, what were you doing in there yourself, _Richie_?"

"I followed you," Richie replied, "I never got your answer from earlier, Eddie...what were _you_ doing there?"

But before Eddie could answer, guards had taken hold of both of them. One of them gave them a glare and started mocking Richie, "Yeah, what were you doing there?"

Beverly had snuck in a bottle of alcohol into the castle inside her gown. She's an alcoholic, some would say, but really, it was Bill who loved getting drunk.

"I honestly have no idea how that works," Bill informs her, leaning back against the seats provided for them in one of the corners. He takes a sip from the bottle and his face scrunched into the taste. He still was not used to the new flavor she was interested in. "You don't even have pockets."

"I just shoved them in there," Beverly winked at him and Bill was mortified. He did not want to know where the ginger decided to shove it. He stopped drinking, which was a good choice because he was intoxicated enough to lose his stutter.

"You want to dance?" Beverly asks him for the fifth time this evening.

He shakes his head. "No way I'm going out there, my pants are already ripped from earlier," He lied and his friend rolls her eyes at him.

"If I find you vomiting again, we're leaving all right?"

He makes another move to make her go and she finally did, hooking her arms around a stranger who asked her to dance earlier.

Bill looks at the bottle in his hands. He lets out a sigh of defeat as he takes another sip. He groaned slightly as the bitter liquid played with his senses. Ugh.

"Bill! Bill!" He hears an all too familiar voice, he tries to find where it came from. "Bill! Over here! Let's dance!"

 _Shit._ He thought as Betty Ripsom squeezes her way into the crowd. He stands up, he does not want to deal with her right now. She was a nice girl but a tad bit clingy in Bill's case. He passes by several people but he can still hear her soft voice calling for him.

 _Fuck fuck fuck fuck._ He presses himself against the walls, apologizing to some of the people who bumped into him. Then he feels velvet curtains in his hands and he stumbled back. He finds himself sitting on someone's lap.

"Oh god!" Bill stands up in a hurry, frightened that he might anger the young man who enjoyed the loneliness in this...small library. Bill wanted to awe at his surroundings but he did not have the time for that. He presses himself against one of the walls as he hears Betty passing by.

Fortunately, she did not notice the curtains that covered the entrance to the room. Once she was out of the area Bill looked at the person he disturbed.

"I am so so sorry," Bill starts apologizing to the handsome man, still sitting on the chair. He was looking up at him with golden-brown eyes. His dirty blonde curls were tightly gelled back and an elegant all-black suit fitted him nicely. Bill slipped up by letting out a soft gasp of woah.

The young man chuckled as he shakes his head. He opens Bill's bottle of alcohol and takes a sip. Bill did not realize he left it there.

"Thanks for this," The stranger tells him, still looking at him. "Watching you panicking over some girl is certainly making me thirsty."

Bill blushed, "She isn't _some_ girl."

"Well, is she your girlfriend? Your fiance? Wife?" The blonde continues, a small taunt in his voice. "If so why are you avoiding her? Is that not what a proper man should not do?"

"She's not my girlfriend or any of that matter," Bill defends himself. "She's just Betty Ripsom, a kind girl."

"Do you fancy her?"

"Um, no," Bill shakes his head harshly. "I'm not into women..." His blush worsens as he looks away. The stranger laughs.

"As do I," He leans back in his chair. "Boobs? I have no idea what some of my peers see in them."

Bill laughs. "You're funny," He tells him. "And handsome." The stranger raises a brow at him, smirking as he takes another sip.

"You're certainly a brave man, aren't you?" The blonde stands up and takes the last sip from the bottle. "Normally people would be intimidated with just my presence alone."

Bill raises a brow at him, "Why should they be? You're not some kind of troll," The redhead laughs. "Sorry, I just—my friend Richie is a troll and people aren't afraid of throwing trash at him."

The stranger finally smiles, wow that was really pretty. He leans against the wall beside Bill and he felt something flutter in his stomach. Was this the butterflies that Beverly had told him back when they were teens?

"So you're a gay man who's friends with a troll," The blonde retells him. "How any more interesting could your life be?"

"Well," Bill thinks, "My family used to be wealthy but now is raising the local orphanage. So I'm practically forced into squiring for some stupid old knight who doesn't know when to take a bath,

"All I wanted was to publish books that scare children at night. Or paint this castle's walls with vivid colors. But I can't do any of that because I have to be a stupid knight for money."

"Tell me about it," the stranger nods his head. "I'm practically forced to attend dozens of parties and my parents want me to marry some lady in the other kingdom." Bill felt the stranger hold on to his arm, he did not make him let go.

"Maybe," Bill says looking at him. "This world just doesn't want us to be happy, because we might hold on too much power that it could possibly destroy it."

"I would like some power," The blonde stares back at him, his lips parted. "If you'd want it too."

Then Bill kissed him and he kissed back. The taste of the bitter alcohol that lingered their tongues changed into something sweet. The blonde's hands cupped his cheeks and Bill's fingers played with gold curls, his other hand behind the slim figure pulling it towards him.

They broke away for a moment and gazed at each other. This isn't love, no, Bill decided. He hardly knew the guy, but he feels the butterflies fly up from his stomach into his throat.

But then he realized it wasn't butterflies.

Bill's breakfast consisted of eggs and bread, lunch was the leftovers of a roasted duck when he was working earlier. He didn't expect to see all of that (plus the alcohol he drank) to be poured out on this guy's pristine suit. There's also a carrot over there and he had no idea when was the last time he ate one.

The blonde's face contorted into many forms of horror. He looked angry and Bill felt small. He was seething but was completely silent as he removed the suit jacket off of him he threw it at Bill. "This is why I don't like associating with people." He stormed out the room, the velvet curtains are thrown aside.

"What were you two doing in a restricted area?" Richie looks up to see the guards presenting him and Eddie to a woman. She looked beautiful even with the wrinkles. Dark hair with grey streaks and a cold stare made him cower. She looked familiar, like he'd seen her from somewhere.

Eddie drops his hood and stumbles to kneel. He hisses when Richie did not follow. Reluctantly he slowly took a knee, his eyes still staring at her.

"I'm sorry, your highness." Eddie squeaks.

Richie double takes. _"Your highness?"_ He gasps out loud, eyes wide.

The queen looks like she wanted to laugh and disregard the honorary but she remained her focus. "Your mother will be very disappointed of you, sneaking off of your estate without her permission," She places her attention on him. _"Lord Edward."_

Richie looks at Eddie with the same shocked look. _"You're a lord?!"_ He whispers to him but his potato sack clad friend didn't look at him, face flushed.

"I was only returning something my cat stole from our last visit, my Queen," Eddie answers her standing up. Richie does the same thing. "It was a goblet, I already placed it in the portrait room."

Richie feels like he was lying. "And I only was following him, he was a very interesting suspicious person, your highness," Richie grins rather in an aloof way, the queen started studying him.

"Who are you?" The queen asks.

"I'm certainly surprised you haven't heard of me, I do have a very familiar face," Richie laughs, "Lord Edward here says that I look like your husband. Ha! Ain't that funny, Eddie?"

Eddie slaps his arm. "It's not funny."

The queen raises her brow, "You still didn't answer me, boy."

"Why, I'm Richard the Bard, my Queen," He continues, "You know I was the one who wrote that song about Oscar Bowers, the one that goes— _Have you ever heard a man so dumb, he kept looking at his bum?"_

 _"And everytime he throws a fit, he looks like his own shit..."_ Richie heard Eddie mumble and he beamed at him..

Then the guards present looked amused as they decided to join in, " _Oh, you must have known who he is, Sir Oscar Bowers, who just took a shit! The knight of all our dreams, afraid of the Derry streams—,"_

"Enough," Queen Maggie cuts them off but a small smirk was replaced the previous scowl she was holding. "It seems that you are a familiar face," Nodding her head she raises her hand and waves them off. "You may now be dismissed, it seems that I trust you kids."

"But, your highness!" Eddie calls out to her.

"And I will not tell this to your mother, Edward. It's a promise," She winks at him before walking out of the room, her heels clacking across the floor.

Maggie, heavily followed by her guards walks down a long hall. "My queen, the boy looked like the king!" One of them gasped and the other one nodded his head.

"Get Wentworth," She said, "I think we found what we were looking for."

Still in the same room, the two boys were a meter apart as the little lord starts pacing around the marble floor. Richie looks at Eddie, "You're a lord?!" He repeats, still in shock.

"And you're the fucker who wrote a song about the head knight?" Eddie shot back.

"Yeah, but you're the one who continued singing it!"

Eddie looks at him, now annoyed. "I'm leaving, goodbye, Richie." Eddie shrugs Richie's hand on his shoulder to move.

Richie drops his shoulders, "Will I ever see you again?"

"I don't think so!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also published on my (newly-made!) wattpad: @jacquessaidnon


	2. deliver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bill wants more in life, richie helps and ends up with the royal family at their doorsteps

**_02._ ** _**Deliver** _

Bill wanted to go back to the castle. He wanted to see everyone having fun and the smiles and laughter in sync. The joyous dancing and the food equally distributed among the guests. He had taken a sample taste of nobility.

Well, he technically did at one point but he did not want to think about that right now.

He was walking home beside Richie and Beverly. Richie was on his horse, Bessie, and was the only one who had not drunk any alcohol. He was quiet, also, which was extremely out of character of him that Bill wanted to ask about it but was too tired to do so.

The midnight moon was clear in the sky and the three of them bathed in its delight with glee and a hungover sense of joy. Which looks so misfitting in the path they had taken to go home.

Their village was poor, a fact that Bill grew up with. It was also sickly and stupid that he couldn't find another way of getting a good amount of money so he became a squire. Richie was barely earning anything and Beverly will steal from a taxman who she passes by. A typical story for a typical village being pushed around by nobles.

"I w-want to go back," Bill blurts out in the middle of the comfortable silence. This also broke the phase Richie was in.

"Are you sure? They're all stuffy in there."

Beverly snorts. "Stuffy? Wow," She slings an arm around Bill. She looks concerned, "Why? Left something in there?"

"I l-left your bottle," Bill nods his head. "But I also c-can't live like th-this!" He spreads his arms around the place. "I don't w-want to be f-fucking forced into a job I don't want because I don't have a single ch-cha-chance!"

Richie pulls Bessie's reigns, a look of concern on his face. "You're going to quit being a squire?" Bill swears he can see a proud look pass his friend's face.

"Yes," Bill nods his head and looks at Beverly, "But I don't wa-want to quit right now. My p-parents will be sus-su-s-FUCK-suspicious."

Beverly smiles at him and pulls him into a hug, "We understand," She pulls away and gives Richie a look before returning back to Bill. "We've read your book."

"Actually, no, we can't read," Richie butts in a grin on his face. "We had to ask your father."

Bill looked mortified, he hissed a 'what' at them. Beverly shakes her head, "Don't worry, we didn't tell him it was you. He was actually impressed ya'know. We were too, you should publish it."

"A book about anarchy? Wouldn't that stir some problems?" Bill asks them, cautious. His plan was always to publish something else so that he wouldn't cause any controversies.

"You could have a pen name!" Beverly points out, "I heard that was what most famous writers do."

Bill considers it, "If I did the pen name and all, where should we even publish it? This village doesn't really scream a hopeful future."

Richie pats Bessie, "There's actually some author I found in the west part of the kingdom. He doesn't like me, but if I show him your work maybe he'll consider it," He said. "Both of you have similar styles too, I think. You sure you're not cheating?"

Bill laughs and slaps his leg. "I supposed the book is still with you I'm hoping on that, Richie."

Seeing the orphanage is sad. It used to be owned by the village's wealthiest but after the civil war, his family grew weary and lost its reputation. Opening the doors made a creak come out in the hinges. The lanterns were turned off and the only one up beside them was Josephine, an orphan. She was coming down the stairs then pulled Beverly.

"Tell me everything that happened!" The eleven-year-old squealed, Beverly tried to quiet her down but she couldn't contain her own giggles, they leave off to one of the rooms downstairs.

Richie's hand clasps Bill's shoulder. He gives him a tired smile, "I'm off, you can sneak into my room and gossip whenever." He leaves and walks up the stairs, his loud steps echoed in the silent house, no care of who might hear it.

Walking towards his room, Bill grew weary once again. If he were to tell his parents he'd quit being a squire they'll be distraught. Maybe the book wouldn't make as much money. Maybe he'd be hanged. His parents would be devastated. Cold and disappointed. And what about Georgie's place in this-

He hears a cough and he looks to the left. Georgie's room. The door was cracked open and he can hear the bed creaking.

"Billy?" Georgie's voice was tiny and weak despite being a sixteen year old. Bill enters his brother's room, leaning against the door frame.

"Yeah?"

"My feet are cold," Georgie shifts in his bed as he tries to sit but Bill rushes over to make him lie down. He grabs his coat and drapes it over Georgie's feet. Bill offered him a smile and his brother let out a shaky laugh.

"How was the ball?"

"Magical," Bill replied, sitting on the floor beside Georgie's bed. "I wanted y-you to be there, I was too drunk the entire t-time."

Georgie giggles, "Did you meet someone new?"

Bill sighs and nods his head. "Yes," He then presses a kiss on Georgie's head. He wasn't supposed to, but the local doctors told them that it might be contagious and that they didn't know what he was coming up with. He lies his back against the floorboards a soft smile on his face. "We sh-should go to sleep, I'll t-tell you the story to-tomorrow."

"I love your stories."

Georgie hums, turning over. Bill thinks, if he gets this author to be on his side, he can make Georgie happy. Probably make him ride Richie's horse or paint something. Here hopes that it will come true.

Richie had been kicked out of the library after he caused a commotion with the author he was supposed to give Bill's book to. He had been traveling for one and a half days and singing the entire time. He was extremely exhausted that he decided to sit backward on Bessie, only playing his lute.

"You should be careful about that," a voice croaked beside him and the bard almost jumped off his horse. He sees an old man to the side, looking at him with an odd expression. He was holding on to a wooden staff and had three sheep following him from behind. "Don't you know how to ride a proper horse?"

"Oh, I'm a professional," Richie grins and winks at the old man. The shepherd rolled his eyes and pointed at the book in his hands.

"What's that you got there?"

"A book, my friend wrote it," Richie said, "Wanted Sir James to look at it but that old crook kicked me out of the damn library like he owns the place."

"He does," The shepherd laughs in amusement, "I have a grandson, he works at the Uris Estate. He works at the library and manages newly published books there but he's back for the week. Maybe he can help?"

"That would be a miracle, sir..."

"Leroy Hanlon," The shepherd replied.

"Sir Hanlon," Richie continued. "Lead the way!"

The Hanlon residence can be found beside a hill, near a forest. The house was next to a barnyard and some stables. Richie placed Bessie in an empty one and one of the workers headed over to give her an apple. He hears Mr. Hanlon call out to him at the porch of his house, Richie jogs up there.

The front door creaks when the old shepherd opened it. Richie wonders what this kingdom has against doors, why are every single one of them creaky when entering? The living area was magnificent, all wooden and varnished, pristine figures are situated on top of dusty shelves and dozens of books littered everywhere.

"Wow," Richie smirks, "You guys are rich."

Mr. Hanlon chuckles, he shakes his head. "All because of Michael. Good kid, ambitious and stubborn. He hates the farm so he runs away to read books."

Richie can see Mr. Hanlon have a glint of pride in his eyes. The shepherd knocked on a door and a muffled voice replies. "You can go see him," Richie rushes over with a bright smile and enters.

Bill would absolutely faint if he was right there. Hundreds of books are everywhere, even on the floor. Papers, and papers and ink spills. Richie had to dance around the floor to go meet this Michael Hanlon.

He was handsome, Richie admits, but certainly not his type. He looks too...relaxed. Like he doesn't need anyone at all. He was wearing a simple nightgown but it was pressed and didn't have a single wrinkle, heck even his face didn't have any wrinkles.

"Richard the Bard," Richie nods his head, a small laugh escapes the scholar's lips. "I never thought the kingdom's rowdiest singer will end up in my bedroom."

"Wait, this is your bedroom?" Richie asks, bewildered as he looks around, trying to find a bed. Still, there was none.

"I don't sleep here anymore ever since working at the Uris Estate. I burned my bed when I ran away, another story," Michael laughs again. It was a nice tone to hear. "You can call me Mike, by the way. Only nobles and family members call me by my full name."

Richie nods his head then takes out the book. "My friend wrote this. It's basically about a fictional world where a misfit thief overthrows the kingdom because the nobles were too corrupt."

Mike nods his head, opening up the book with an interest in his eyes. "Your friend ...uh, Tennus Brulokovitch? Curious, I haven't heard a family with that name in Derry."

Richie remembered picking the name out for Bill. He just blurted out random words and Bill actually liked it. Beverly didn't but it's not her name so she didn't complain. "It's a pen name. We don't really want him to get in trouble for being an anarchist or anything. I mean, he isn't really an anarchist. He just likes dark stuff you know," Richie keeps playing with his fingers as he thinks about Bill's work. "He wants to write horror after this book gets published. So we're basically counting on you on that."

Mike looks at him then smiles. "I bet this friend of yours can't get to chase their dream properly?" Richie nods. "I guess I could handle it. But it's a long process, I have to go back to the Uris Estate next week to work things out, and it'll take a few months for it to get reproduced."

"It's all right! Better than what we expected too!" Richie shakes Mike's hand excitedly like a hyped-up puppy on its first walk outside. "Thank you so much, you're not going to regret this!"

Mike finds this amusing as Richie starts to leave. "I hope I won't!"

His return back to his own village was exhausting that it took him an extra day because he had slept in the inn for an unnecessary seven hours. He had worn out his hands by playing his lute the whole trip.

The first thing Richie notices when he sees the orphanage were red and gold flags flowing softly in the breeze. A carriage that Richie had only seen go in and out of the castle was right outside the entrance and three royal guards were standing outside. Richie pulled Bessie's reigns, slowing her down.

He steers Bessie away from the entrance and makes way over to where her stable was. Richie climbs off of her and rushes over to the orphanage's back door where he was greeted by Beverly.

"Speak of the devil," She gasps and pulls him in for a hug. She then slaps him in the face after.

"Ow," Richie touches the red slap on his cheek, easing the faint sting.

"I don't know what kind of trouble you're in right now but the guys at the castle are looking for you," Beverly said. "The Denbroughs are stalling them, so please, have a heart and save them from the stress."

Richie nods his head and enters the living area, passing a few of the kids looking at him nervously. When he walks in all eyes looked up and he managed a smirk despite his nervousness. He looks at the Denbroughs, Sharon, Zach and Bill all panicked, stressed and frozen were sitting across two nobles. Queen Maggie made the old wooden bench look like a massive throne, her elegant traveling dress was simple but intricate with details filled with petunias and lilies. She wore a diamond ring over white gloves, her hand holding tight on King Wentworth. Richie takes a long look at him and realized how he looks much much older than the painting he had observed during the ball, a scruffy beard, no glasses, and salt-and-pepper hair. His eyes were brighter than the painting and wrinkles were heavily visible.

"Wow, I must be very dehydrated from my travels," Richie blinks at everything. Sharon Denbrough glared at him and motioned for him to come closer. He did but slower.

The king lets out a chuckle and Richie smiles brightly, he can also hear Bill scoff before Sharon pinched his hand.

"It seems that we have come at a perfect time, Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough," Queen Maggie smiles, she released her hand from the king and points it at Richie. "He's the missing prince."

Richie hears a gasp, he doesn't turn around but realizes it was Beverly, watching from the door frame.

"Well, it's actually princess-," The king tried only to be kicked on the foot by his wife.

Richie looks at them, mouth agape then laughs out loud. "Wait, is this some sort of joke?" He asks the royal family with knitted brows. "Look, I'm already used to being the fool, singing stupid songs and trash-talking miserable knights, I don't need to add any more to my resume. I'm already fine with village tomatoes, I don't need freaking exotic fruit thrown at me."

The king looked at him amusedly, "I like his sense of humor." He points out making the queen shake her head and muttering an 'of course you do.'

"Twenty-two years ago I gave birth to a child which we expected was a girl. She was taken by my nurses for a bath but someone swiped her away from us," The queen says, "We thought it was impossible to have her back again. That is until you got caught sneaking into the restricted areas during the Villager's Ball."

"You what?" Richie can feel the shocked look Sharon had in her face. "Do you know about this?" She was talking to Bill who kept quiet the entire time.

"You looked like this old fool when he was your age," Queen Maggie jabs a finger at her husband. "We found out who you were afterward. A newborn baby brought into this orphanage the night after the kidnapping of our daughter."

Zachary Denbrough coughs and everyone turns to look at him. "How can you be so sure, your highness? Richie may just be a coincidence." He tells them, eyes darting between the two royals in caution.

"Well, we're just taking a wild guess," King Wentworth says, "Unless Richie over here has the Tozier birthmark beside his belly button, he wouldn't be ours."

"A birthmark?" Richie asks.

Queen Maggie softens her expression as the rest of them grew confused. "Gregory Tozier, the first king of Derry was stabbed to death near his belly button by a supposed witch. Apparently, every single descendant of his has it, a harmless curse some might say."

The king nods his head in excitement. "You can look at mine!" The queen stops him from unbuttoning his clothes.

"No," She simply said. "Richie, if it wouldn't be a hassle..." She motions her hand over his stomach and the boy nods his head and all eyes locked on to Richie as he slowly fiddled with his shirt.

Their gazes were too overwhelming especially with the grey, calculating eyes the Queen bore into his hands. The buttons on his hand-me-down shirt were not helpful as he struggled to open the first three. When he finally did he can hear Bill and the king gasped out loud. A little pale brown mark was indeed printed to the right side of his belly button.

"Well," The queen coughs, somehow looking proud. "It seems we've finally found the princess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i have no idea how to write richie but im pursuing this no matter what :


	3. meet and greet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie spends time with family, isnt that sweet?

03\. meet and greet

RICHIE DIDN'T EXPECT living in a castle would be a living hell. Heck, Bill even wanted to go back to the party. Back to where everything was filled with glittering goblets, polished floors, and a privilege. But he had left his friends back in their village as soon as Richie lifted his damn shirt.

The Toziers were extremely happy of course, Richie was too. It is what every orphan wishes for, right? To be adopted by a happy family? But every day he wakes up, not being able to hear Sharon's morning call for breakfast or being pushed aside by Bill and little Roger to get the freshly baked bread. He misses Beverly's rebellious acts of sneaking out in the middle of the night to go drink in the pub not so far or talking to Georgie through his bedroom door.

It's been a week and three days since he stepped foot on the castle as the new prince. His friends send letters every day, the delivery wouldn't even take too long, which surprised him a bit. They could also visit him, the Queen-no, his mom, assured him about that. The only thing hard about that is the fact that they can't stay too long. Something about etiquette, which Richie described as bullshit.

Richie was also bombarded with a book of never-ending activities and lessons he has to catch up on. He wasn't supposed to do any of those yet, except maybe today. The most flabbergasting thing he had come across on the very first pages were a lesson on hosting a party for geese. Well, that's what he thinks his schedule looked like.

His thoughts were interrupted when a rhythmic knock started on the grand doors to his bedroom. His eyes flew open and he sat up, feeling rather groggy. A drool stain was found on his chin. Richie notices the doors open, without much of his permission but noticed it was his personal valet, Benjamin Hanscom. He preferred to call him Ben, though, which made the slightly pudgy boy sigh in relief.

"Good morning, your highness!" Ben walks in with a tray of his breakfast. Ham, eggs, and bread. But it looked absolutely stunning on top of the delicate silver platters and a cup of warm milk. Richie refuses to drink tea, it had no good qualities at all.

Richie grinned as Ben set his breakfast at the little table before his massive bed. He climbed off of it and walked over there, disheveled hair and everything. He stabbed the fork into the ham, careful not to break the plate underneath. He looks at Ben, trying to listen as to what his schedule was for today.

"...horseback riding with your parents, proceeding to lunch at the pavilion, we also have to work on your writing, you've almost spelled pronunciation," Ben exaggerates the word and giggles at himself. Richie smiles at that. "During the afternoon, your parents will have a meeting with some nobles from the North side of the kingdom. While they're busy in the east parlor, you and their children will spend some time together to mingle with one another in the room next to theirs."

Richie scrunched his nose, "Uugggghhhh..." He groans, stabbing one of the eggs again. "I'm going to spend the entire afternoon with a bunch of spoiled eleven-year-olds?"

Ben laughs, "Actually no, only one of them is an eleven-year-old, the other four are somewhere near your age." This makes Richie groan even harder.

"Shouldn't the introductions happen during my Me Party or something?"

"First of all, its called your debut ball," Ben corrects, tapping his head with a pen. "Secondly, it's a good chance to get a head start at the introductions, so it wouldn't be a bit hard during your ball."

Richie was still not convinced but one look at Ben made him give in. "Fine, I'll try and mingle."

-

Richie had brought along Bessie with him, of course. She was his ever since he found her abandoned by her negligent owner in the marketplace. She instantly formed a bond with him once Richie untied her reins.

The gray Arabian horse trotted across the vast open field behind the castle. Bessie was lead with vibrant ruby leather reins and a matching bridle to go with. Richie was dressed similarly as well, a red tailcoat that ended where the garment meets his extremely high white stockings. His collars were turned up and an emblem of the family name was handstitched on one of them. He used to own a pair of worn-out thick-rimmed glasses Beverly managed to buy, but now it was replaced with a newer, much better, and slightly heavier pair. He refused to wear a hat though, already bothered with the slightly warm weather approaching.

He saw the king's horse galloping around the field with His Majesty himself, screaming his joy out. Richie hears another horse coming to his side and realizes it was the queen on her handsome white Missouri fox trotter. 

"I'm sorry about this whole situation again." Maggie apologized for the seventh time since the orphanage. She was too concerned with everything that surrounds him, too delicate with him. It almost scared Richie at first, as he's used to much louder and blunt people. "This isn't pressuring you too much, right?"

Richie smiles and lets out a soft laugh. "It kind of is," He pursed his lips then looked at her. "Everything feels like a sudden dream. Like your penny inside the wishing well turned out to not be a waste."

"You wished about this?" The Queen asks him with a hint of tease.

"Not exactly at being a royal, no," Richie replies a blush creeping on his face. "When I was ten, I threw a piece of bread in the well and wished for parents."

"Isn't that cute?" Queen Maggie sighs, leaning on to her horse and giving it a pat of affection. "I always thought I had a girl. I'm just not used to how boys should be raised, I was in a family of five, all girls, my dad died long before I was born."

Richie looks at her, doesn't say anything as he doesn't know what to.

"It was hard living with your father, we were in an arranged marriage you see. He was extremely goofy, a bit wild. You reminded me of him when I met you the first time at the ball. Then I saw you and thought if I had a son, he'd just be like Wentworth. Stressful, yes, but the journey would turn out lovely." She pressed a soft smile, her eyes trained on her husband now off of his horse, chasing it around the field with some of the footmen following him behind. Richie laughs at the sight.

"What I'm trying to say is," The queen takes his hands and Richie felt a sudden warmth surge past him. "I want to try and be your mom. I want to make up for our absence in almost a quarter of your life. Even if it would loose me the crown, I will be there for you." Her grip on his hands felt extremely comforting that he held on to them firm.

Richie breaks a genuine smile this time. "Thank you," He pauses as she looks at him with a glint in her eyes. "Mom."

"Hey!" They all turn to see King Wentworth, red in the face, panting before them. "We should get some lunch, yes?" 

-

Richie was dressed in another ridiculous outfit, much more hotter than before. It was another ruby tailcoat, Richie realized it was the family color, but had extremely detailed embroidery in the cuffs and near the ends of the fabric. Apparently, their family sigil was a fox. 

Ben was beside him, adjusting Richie's stockings and dust off a speck of dirt on his already clean shoe. "I am so nervous and I always do this." He keeps muttering under his breath but the prince can still hear him.

"Nervous?" Richie asks.

Ben looks up and fixes his posture, he nods his head and wipes the bead of sweat forming on his forehead. "Some of the nobles's kids scare me. Especially Lord Victor Criss."

Richie patted Ben's back with his hand, he gives him an assuring smile. "I think I should be the one that should worry here, Ben," He chuckles. "But if any of them lays a finger on you I will burn their egos down to the ground."

Ben laughs, his body stopped shaking. He gives Richie a hug. "You're really not that bad. Thank you, your majesty."

Just as when Richie was about to correct Ben, his bedroom doors opened to see the queen looking for them. "Richie, come on. The guests just arrived."

Without another word, Richie and Ben follow her along the corridor, taking quick steps. Ben fixes his little tie on the way.

They all end up in the adjacent room of the parlor. Ben instantly walks up to the doors and knocks, immediately opening them. Richie can hear shuffling as soon as Queen Maggie steps foot inside. Richie takes this as his cue to follow.

The room had two pink sofas facing each other in the center, a fireplace stuck to the wall right of him. Three bookcases were pressed against the opposite wall and a violin was perched near the windows. There were four other people inside, including an eleven-year-old girl who had the most intense glare Richie had ever seen.

Richie can see Ben silently whimper at the sight of a blonde man, staring out the window, as if looking for someone. 

"Ah, good afternoon, children!" The queen greets them with a chirp. She looked delightful despite the uninterested or scared looks given to her by her guests.

"Good afternoon, your majesty," They all said, unanimously. Richie notices a curly haired boy sitting on one of the sofas, one leg over another and a tight lip on his face as he stares back at Richie. 

The queen coughs into her hand and pulls Richie to her side. She gives him a pat on his head as he stares at all of them with a forced smile. They all looked so uptight it made Richie uncomfortable.

"I'm sure you all have heard about the upcoming debut ball happening next week," The queen starts. "Well, this is our son, Richie, I hope you can all be acquainted until then—,"

KA-THUNK

All eyes fall over a fallen book on the corner. Richie looks up to see the man behind it. He hadn't thought about him after they first met, which surprised Richie himself. He was gaping at him, still stunned.

"RICHIE?!" Eddie screams out in disbelief.


	4. unfortunate greetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> richie's first impression does not go well, at all

04 - unfortunate greetings

EDDIE HAS A blush on his face as soon as he realized he made a scene. He quickly made his way to sit beside the curly-haired boy with his face behind his knees.

Queen Maggie coughs and she was pulling Ben out of the parlor, not wanting to be a part of anything that's about to happen it seems like. Richie watches them leave, a sense of dread and uneasiness creeps up behind his spine as he looks at everyone.

Their faces were all different, but their gazes all calculated and serious. Even the eleven-year-old looked like she wanted to bite his head off. Then Victor Criss stood up and left the room, not saying a word. It seemed that everyone left in the room knew it was for the better.

Richie sits beside Eddie, who looked away from him. He can hear Eddie's breath, uneven but quiet. It soon stopped when Richie caught sight of the blonde curly-haired boy's hand gripping Eddie's. Richie must have made a face because the said boy points it out.

"Keep that face up, Prince," The blonde boy taunted, a sly smirk on his face as he focuses on Richie. "Or you'll end up with the trolls under the bridge."

Richie's brows knit together just as Eddie scolds his friend. "Stan."

Ah, so that's his name.

Stan shrugs his shoulders, "What? I'm just trying to be playful with my cousin over here, no harm, right, Tozier?" Stan pats Richie's knees as he gives him a wink.

Richie blinks his eyes then a grin appears on his face, his uneasiness suddenly wearing off.

"You seriously think I'm related to a virgin?" He points at Stan who suddenly became red, then his contorts in an offended reaction. Eddie snorts, Stan glares at him. Richie continues, "Look, I know you're just trying to look cool in front of the one and only Trashmouth Bard." 

Stan clears his throat, his eyebrows furrowed not expecting this sudden outburst. "I'm sorry," He says, forcing a smile on his face. "I believe we had a rather rough encounter—,"

"Hey, that's what your mother and I had last night." Richie winks.

The look on Stan and Eddie's face was mortified. Stan slaps Richie's hand, it stings so bad. "She's your father's cousin, asshole!" Stan hisses at him but it only made Richie laugh even harder.

"Jeez, Stan, learn to take a joke," Richie teases then points at the other person in the room, a handsome black man with a blue suit laughing along with his sister, the eleven-year-old. "Like these guys. These guys get it."

"Yeah, Stanley!" The brother said, "Get rid of that stick up your ass already!"

"Fuck off, Lucas." Stan rolls his eyes as he sinks into his seat, bothered with the sudden attention. Eddie gently pats him on the shoulder while glaring at Richie.

"You should really sew up that mouth of yours," Eddie hisses at him but Richie only smirked. 

"Sorry, can't help it," Richie raises his hands up in defense. "I still have a reputation for being an asshole, remember?"

Eddie nods his head. "Wow, I can't believe you admitted that," He declares, a bit smug. He then looks at Stan, his face laced with worry. "How about we go outside and take a breath of fresh air?" The blonde boy nodded his head softly and followed the little lord out, their footsteps echoed in Richie's ears.

Richie watches them close the parlor's door and he felt absolutely awful. He turns to Lucas who was looking at him at the same time. "Did I go too far?" He asks the noble.

"They're not used to these types of conversations," Lucas shrugs. "They grew up with strict parents. True nobles, something like that."

Richie looks at him, "What about you?"

"Well, literally speaking I am a true noble. My ancestors have always been barons, but we weren't raised with super high expectations," Lucas explains, a sigh escapes his lips. "I just think I'm lucky not to have parents like Lord Donald Uris."

Richie's eyes widened. "Wait did you just said Uris?" He chokes, quickly remembering the visit he had a few weeks ago. 

"Yeah," Lucas nods his head. "Stanley is his one true pride, Lord Uris wants him to be the most perfect boy that ever lived."

Richie hums uncomfortably, "Now I feel bad," He stands up, almost tripping from the speed. "Do you know where to find them?"

Lucas shakes his head. "They said they were going outside," He suggests with a shrug. "But I don't think I can help, I have no idea how to get around this place."

Richie glances over to Lucas's sister, who had pulled out a book from one of the shelves. She had an unsatisfied look on her face while reading it. He then looks back at Lucas. "You're staying here with your sister right?"

"I'd be beheaded by my own parents if I left their sweet little Erica all alone."

"Hey!" Erica voices but doesn't add anything else, her attention still on the book.

With that, Richie left the room with several thoughts of apologies in mind. His hands trailed against the varnished walls, each finger tracing up the extremely detailed patterns that were carved into it. He can feel waves crashing into an open shore, mountains and suns of different sizes passing through the horizon. The hall was almost endless, the parlor their parents were in was not close to theirs at all.

Richie passes by several of the servants, giving them a small smile of acknowledgement. He continues on his walk, looking for windows but there were none at all. Then he stops when he felt a small dent in the wall. His attention turns towards it and the prince can see a thin line that goes up from the ceiling down to the floor.

He looks at the small crack, trying to rack up his limited knowledge of the castle for some answers. He remembers Ben telling him something before, during the third night he spent in the castle.

"There's a few hidden rooms inside," Ben tells him, setting down a map of the castle grounds. He points at one of the dashed-lined squares. "The architects built them in just in case an attack might happen."

Richie stares at him with awe. "Wait weren't there used to be some underground torturing years ago?" He asks, his face full blown of curiosity.

Ben looks at him oddly but nods his head anyways. "Yeah, but after your father took reign, he burned almost all the torture devices."

"Oh." Richie sounded disappointed making Ben laugh nervously. "But there is still some, right?"

"You should get to sleep, sire. Your midnight thoughts are really starting to scare me, hahaha..." Ben laughed nervously, turning the candle light off.

Richie shakes his head, he should find Stan and Eddie right now...but maybe this was one of those torture rooms—no, Eddie and Stan are priority! 

Fuck it, Richie thought as he pushes the hidden door open. The wall made a small shriek. The lanky boy peered inside but all he could see was nothing but the dark. Maybe this was a mistake, he should probably—his foot took control of itself making it step forward. There was nothing he could step on, only air. He let out a squeak of surprise as his body was being pulled down by gravity. The hidden door immediately closing shut in an instant. 

Richie was the loudest person ever so this wasn't one of those times where he wanted to stay quiet. His sense of panic made him scream at the top of his lungs as he felt cobwebs and cold wind sticking to his arms. Then a shot of pain surged up his rear as he finally landed on ground.

"Fuck!" He screamed out as he massaged his sore bottom.

His alarm went up as soon as he heard feet shuffling. He immediately closed his eyes, not wanting to know who or what's in there with him, his long arms start to flail around trying to fight the air and more cobwebs around, screaming several times to maybe try to scare off his attacker.

"Oh my god, Richie is that you?" It was Eddie's voice, small and panicked.

Richie blinks his eyes open and jumps over to where the voice was. He hugged the warm body with a tight grip but noticed it wasn't the exact body he expected Eddie to have.

"Get off me, you asshole," Stan pushed his face away making Richie's glasses fall off. The lanky boy scrambled over, trying to find them. 

"How did you end up here?" Richie asks as he puts his glasses back. He felt a hand on his and noticed it wasn't the cold ones hat pushed his face away. It was Eddie's. Richie's face flushed, thankful for the darkness.

"I leaned against the fucking wall and we both stumbled over," Eddie explains tightening his grip on Richie.

"I've been into one of your hidden rooms and it did not end up well," Stan says, frustrated. "Who would even want to live in this creepy place?"

"Tell that to Bill," Richie grumbled under his breath, remembering how much his friend wanted to go back here. 

"I'm sorry who?"

"That's not important right now!" Eddie exclaims standing up, his hand had let go of Richie's making the prince pout in his seat. "We should find a way to get out of here. I do not want my mother to find me covered with dust and rat pee!"

"You rolled around in rat pee?" Richie laughs.

"I did not! But there is a possibility that I might! Later! Accidentally!" Eddie continues, his voice starting to go higher every word he adds on.

"Do you guys have a match?" Stan starts, making a shuffle in his seat.

"I have one," Richie tells him, pulling out a small match box in his pocket. He sneaked it in earlier when the maids had dressed him up.

"Why do you have that?" Eddie asks.

"To smoke."

"That's disgusting."

Stan takes the box from Richie's palm. The curly-haired boy pulled out the small match stick inside and flicked it against the side of the box. A small flame burst out on the match stick, he led it over a much bigger stick he probably found somewhere, there was a handkerchief tied on the tip. He lit the perfectly good handkerchief in flames which made Stan's face cringe.

"Such a waste," He mutters under his breath then turns his attention back to the two, who were looking at him with awe.

"You're like Jesus," Richie tells him, his mouth still wide with amazement. The comment made Stan furrow his brows even more.

"I'm Jewish."

"Technically so was Jesus—," Eddie cuts in.

"We are not having this conversation right now," Stan stands up, leading the way. "I think I know where we fell from."

Richie takes in his surroundings, his face disappointed. There were no torture devices in sight, only a bunch of old furniture that probably had termites in them. Eddie hits a small table, letting out a short scream. Stan did not payed any attention to them as he starts to think in his own world.

"I should probably say sorry about earlier," Richie starts, turning to Eddie. The shorter boy looked up, his hand still clutching his foot. He must have stubbed his toe when he bumped into the table. "I didn't meant to be too insensitive."

Eddie lets out a small sigh. "It's okay, for me at least. You should really apologize to Stanley, though. His humor may be pretty dark, but he usually doesn't feel comfortable when it comes from strangers."

"Gotcha," Richie nods his head, he turns his attention back to their other companion, who seemed to spot their exit. The distance between the hidden door from their current room wasn't really that big, it looks like two of them could climb up on top of each other to reach the door. 

"Eddie you should go first," Stan starts, he pulls Richie over to him as well. "Richie, you'll be the bottom."

Richie blinks his eyes at him, but doesn't make a comment. Apologize to Stan first, he tells himself. He kneeled down on the floor as Eddie climbs on his back. 

"Didn't expect you to be heavy," Richie huffs as Eddie soon places his feet on Richie's shoulders. The taller boy slowly stands up, holding on to Eddie's legs. Stanley is in the back, in case the short boy falls off of Richie.

"I have bigger muscles than you, skinny." Eddie retorts, finding the ledge and pulls himself off of Richie. The hidden door already opened. As the weight on his shoulders lifts up, Richie looks at Stan.

"I'm sorry," He starts, adjusting his glasses while staring down at cold brown eyes and a raised brow. "About earlier, I was too insensitive."

Stan sighs, "I forgive you. I'm still not used to properly interacting with people, I hope you'll forgive my awfully bad reaction as well."

"Hell yeah, I'll forgive the fuck out of you anytime," Richie gives him a smile making the other return it as well.

"But Stanley has the chance of being king!"

Both of their ears shot up as they heard the shout coming from the wall near them. Stan seemed to recognize the voice as his eyes seemed to widened. They both press their ears against the wall, their curiosities pulling them in like a magnet.

 _"Donald, you can't be serious! We already found our heir!"_ That was Maggie's voice. The two boys looked at each other, their brows knit together.

__

_"An heir that's practically incompetent, Maggie! I'm sorry to tell you, but I've observed your son. I've seen him in the streets, he's always lazing around, dirtying the names of our good knights!"_ The man continues to shout and Stan was pale under the torch light

_"But he's my son, Donald. We can still be able to train him until Wentworth retires. He's capable of many things!"_

__

_"Tell yourself that, Maggie."_ The man scoffed, clearly not convinced. _"If your son couldn't handle the king's duties until then, Stanley will take the throne. He's still Wentworth's blood."_

Stan's breath hitched and he looked distraught, Richie watches him, cautiously. His body starts to shake, his hand turning into a fist.

The little fight continues between the two, _"... Fine! I'm going to make sure Richie is the next king Derry deserves. Don't meddle with it, Donald, or I will tell all of this to Wentworth and you don't want to know what happens next."_ Then loud footsteps banged on the floor and the slam of the door made the two boys retract from the wall.

"Shit," Stan mutters under his breath as he passes his hand through his hair. He starts to pace around the room, getting paler by the second. "I hate him so much. He's so full of himself," He turns around, his eyes teary and wide, "I _can't_ fucking rule, Richie! I'm not a freaking leader!" 

Richie approaches his cousin in worry, he holds on his shoulders tight. "Stan, stan, calm down." He starts rubbing Stan's back, making the curly-haired boy slow down his heavy, uneven breathing.

"Richie," Stan looks up at him. "I don't want to be the king. I don't deserve to be the king."

Richie swallows the lump in his throat. "Then you should probably help me, then," He says, thinking about his words, which was a first. "I mean, I do believe that I'm not king material but maybe I could learn? I just had a family of my own, I guess I don't want to be a disappointment."

Stan pulled out a small smole, like it was a familiar feeling. He nods his head, "I will. I'll try and help you...and maybe," He looked nervous. "You can probably make me a little less responsible? Maybe that will change my father's mind."

"I know a thing or two about irresponsibility," Richie cracks a grin and Stan lets out a laugh.

"Guys!" Eddie shouted at them. Richie cursed under his breath, completely forgetting about their angry pixie friend. My muscles can't hold on to this fucking door any longer!"

"Come on," Stan shrugs and pushes Richie down to kneel. "We can't keep the demon waiting." Richie barks out a laugh as he grabs on to Stan's legs, pushing him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo...about how they talk is definitely not how people in the 1800s talk bc the way they speak gives me an absolute headache with reading (but i will most likely not add most modern slangs because thats a bit too far)
> 
> i also took a bit of inspiration from the princess diaries (1 and 2) for the plot bc i really loved those movies and dame julie andrews 💗 maggie is basically queen clarisse
> 
> next chapter we'll go back to bill and beverly 
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
